


Belmont Curse

by esama



Category: Castlevania (TV), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: Trevor, Alucard and Sypha at the gates of Gresit





	Belmont Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed

Getting out of Gresit was infinitely easier than getting in had been. There's not that many people left, the church is in literal ruins and no one has any strength left to care about whether people come or go – so, When Trevor, Sypha and Alucard make their way to the front gates of Gresit with every intention of blowing their way out of there... no one stops there.

Gresit is all but dead now – even the Speakers are finally packing up to go, scraping together some semblance of a caravan train to leave the dying wreck of a city behind. Gresit's government is long since crumbled, and now, with the church down to last handful of scattered, scared priests, there's no one left to defend the city. Even its walls offer no more than token protection. Everyone with any intelligence left is getting ready to leave.

"This feels wrong," Sypha says quietly, as she and Trevor look back at the city, and Alucard considers the haphazardly barricaded gates. "We've been here so long, doing what we can for this city and now..."

"Well, your job is done here, right?" Trevor asks and picks at his ear. His ear is ringing – it's been ringing since the Cyclops, really. "Your sleepy saviour is wide awake and all. What's the point in staying?"

"To help people," Sypha sighs and looks at Alucard, who is idly pushing at the barricade with his boot. It's mostly made of what looks like broken furniture and remains of collapsed buildings -wood and brickwork, mingled into a messy pile. "Our goal here might be complete, but the mission is never over. It is wrong to leave now, at the point where Gresit needs us most."

"Gresit is collapsing onto itself – staying is not just stupid, it's suicidal waste of time," Trevor shrugs. "Better go somewhere that's still alive, where your work might have some actual effect. Vampire, what are you doing?"

"This is tall," Alucard comments, motioning at the pile of random crap that almost covers the gates. "Is it like this on the other side?"

"Pretty much."

"No wonder demons get inside then," the vampire murmurs, and draws his sword – sliding it out of it's sheath without even touching it, only picking it up mid air once it's loose. "Not that walls much matter to creatures with wings..."

Trevor folds his arms and tilts his head to the side, wondering what the hell is he going to try and do – swordfight the fucking barricade? Apparently, yes, he decides, as Alucard draws the sword back for a swing and then, shifting his footing, delivers it.

There is a massive, supernatural gust of wind. Trevor's eyebrows climb up as the barricade actually shifts, stone crumbling and wood shattering – but the barricade still remains, if little worse for wear.

"Well done," Trevor congratulates the vampire and just barely keeps himself from clapping his hands sarcastically. "You sure showed it."

"Shut up Belmont," Alucard answers and then swings his sword again – and again, and again. It's a little disturbing to see that it's actually having an affect, cutting the barricade apart piece by piece until the vampire is standing in a loose circle of wrecked wood and stone.

Sypha sighs. "Please," she says, before Alucard can turn his sword on the gate. "Let me."

Alucard glances at her and then gracefully bows out of the way, giving Trevor _any comments now?_ sort of look. Trevor makes a face at him and spits at the street while Sypha gathers her magic and raises a pillar of ice from the ground. Her hands glow with cold, ethereal light as she lashes out with the icy flame between he fingers, sending the pillar at the gate.

It's thrown open by the force of the icy impact.

"There," Sypha says with satisfaction and releases the magic. The ice she created shatters, leaving the gates open, surrounded by the rubble of the barricade on each side. "Now we can leave."

"Great," Trevor says and hoists the travel pack the Speakers had put together over his shoulder. "Let's go then."

Sypha hesitates, though, looking back at Gresit – and Alucard seems to have some issues with showing his back at Trevor – so, it's Trevor who first steps out of Gresit. And not a moment too soon, either – the place is miserable, wretched little shit hole and the sooner he can leave it behind, the better.

It'd be gone after the next horde attack, probably – brought to ground like Targoviste, Arges and the other great cities before it. And good riddance.

Trevor bows his head when neither Sypha nor Alucard follows him and sighs. Alright, maybe the people of Gresit didn't deserve it. They were infected with that same suicidal religious idiocy that got Wallachia into this fucking mess in the first place – but ignorance isn't a sin, just stupid.

Sighing Trevor stops to wait, staring at the muddy mess of a road ahead of them. It's becoming a fucking swamp out here, in the lack of proper maintenance – and with all the damn rains. As much as he couldn't leave Gresit behind, he wasn't all that excited about setting out again. The weather getting colder too – and he'd lost his cloak, damn it all. Fuck, the nights would be miserable.

He waits another beat and then shakers his head. "We're wasting daylight," he says and turns to look behind him. "Can we please get fucking..." Trevor trails off, blinking with confusion.

The gate is shut again

For a moment he just stares at it. Had they _really_ just fucking closed the gates behind him? Just after he stepped out too – how the hell hadn't he heard it happen? And... The gate isn't just shut.

It's shut and _barricaded_.

"Hey, you there!"

Trevor looks up, and sees a Gresit guard, leaning down from the wall watchtower. "The city is barred from entry!" the guard shouts down at him while Trevor stares at him in confusion. "No one is getting in here! Get lost!"

"What the hell," Trevor says and looks at the gate again. It's covered in wood and brickwork and rocks, another haphazard barricade hastily erected to keep the gate well shut. There is no sign of Sypha's ice, no sign the barricade so much as being shifted never mind scattered about the way Sypha's little ice attack had.

It doesn't look like it's moved in _weeks_. There's actually some fresh snow, still stuck in the shadows where the dim morning light hasn't yet melted it.

"Are you listening to me?!" the gate guard demands and then pulls a bow on Trevor. "Get lost before I'm forced to waste an arrow on you!"

"I just..." Trevor says and then stops. There hadn't been a guard there a moment ago – pretty much every soldier of Gresit was long dead by now. Or was supposed to be. There certainly had been no people willing to risk trying to shoot at one of the people who'd stopped the hoard attack before.

The guard lets out a noise and then lets the arrow fly. It misses its mark by a foot, landing in Trevor's feet at a terrible angle and shattering against the rocks. Trevor looks down at it and then crouches to pick up the arrow head.

Rusting metal, now bent at the tip. It looks real enough.

"That was a warning shot!" the guard shouts. "The next one will be in your eye, bastard – now get going!"

"The legendary hospitality of Gresit leaves something to be desired!" Trevor shouts upwards.

"Get moving, bastard!"

"Tch," Trevor says and then, before the guard can properly draw his bow, he takes a quick step for a wind up and then lobs the broken arrow back at the man. It dings sharply against the guard's dented helmet. "You can have that back," he says while the guard falls over with a startled yelp.

Then, before the guard can recover, Trevor shoulders his bag and then gets well out of arrow distance.

Something just happened, something that he'd never actually believed in – something he'd thought was impossible. And he just needs to see, just to make sure...

Quickly, while the guard shouts abuse after him, Trevor hurries to the near by copse of trees and there, dropping the bag onto the ground, he climbs the first climbable tree he can find, a sparse looking pine with most of it's needles missing. It doesn't take more than his own height's worth of climbing that he can look back and see just enough over Gresit's wall.

And over it he can see the towers of the Cathedral, once more standing over the city.

"Shit," Trevor mutters, his eyes widening. The Cathedral is back, as if it hadn't been blown into fucking _hell_ the previous night. Most of the rooftops he sees are still whole too. It's as if the whole horde attack had never happened.

"Fuck," Trevor mutters, his eyes wide. "It's true, what great grandfather wrote actually true. It's fucking true. Oh my fucking god."

He's back at the start – at the moment just before he entered the city.

Time's been rewound back.

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory time travel thing.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Belmont Curse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126345) by [graycalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graycalls/pseuds/graycalls)




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